


There will always be a way

by ChocoNut



Series: Tales of love (Season 3/4) [51]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff, Smut, seasons 2 and 3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-12
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-19 10:55:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29998302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChocoNut/pseuds/ChocoNut
Summary: Five times Brienne turns Jaime down, and the one time she doesn't.
Relationships: Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth
Series: Tales of love (Season 3/4) [51]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1483640
Comments: 9
Kudos: 93





	There will always be a way

“Can’t sleep, my lady?”

“Not your concern, Kingslayer.” His interference irritating her, Brienne folds her arm over her ear to block him out. His cocky tone is worse than her inability to drift away.

“What keeps you up this late?” he goes on, blatantly ignoring her attempt to get rid of him. 

She can hear the rustling of sheets, the long sigh that travels down to her corner warning her that he might be out to work away his own sleeplessness on her. There is only one way out of this - not falling to the temptation of engaging with him.

“You appear to be thinking about Renly.”

If only that were true. If only it were the handsome king of her dreams in her head instead of her unkempt prisoner who calls himself a knight. Determined not to answer, she presses her arm tighter to her ear as if doing that will keep his snark from getting on her nerves.

“Are you?”

She sits up. “Enough of this—”

“You are,” he concludes. To her dismay, he approaches her. “I could come over to give you some… _solace_ ,” he smoothly offers. But to her relief, he stops two feet away from her. Green eyes gleam with mischief; she can feel his mind twitching with the choicest bits of insults he can gather to pelt her with. “And maybe relieve your pain with a kiss or two and a feel up your—”

“Not interested,” she hotly turns him down, then goes back to lying down.

If only keeping her consciousness safely locked away from him were an option…

+++++ 

Her eyes on the blade, Brienne tries to concentrate, but the uncomfortable knowledge of the Kingslayer staring down at her does no good to her cleaning attempt.

Abandoning her task, she looks up when she cannot stand it anymore. “What?”

“You and I—” He tilts his head slightly, and narrowing his eyes, regards her, tongue between his teeth. “We could have quite a duel.” 

If he’s goading her into trying to un-cuff him, he’s going to have to try harder.

“Come now, wench,” he continues in a silky voice. “Just once.”

“And you think you’re going to overpower me—”

“—fling you down, tear off your clothes.” An intent to mock and ridicule - every inch of him is full of that. “I can see you want that, my lady. I also know that Renly wasn’t man enough to—”

“Shut up,” she bellows. “One more word about Renly—”

He laughs away her indignation. “You must be the only one holding him on a pedestal. He was no good for his pretty wife. Even if you did have a chance, you’re better off without him. But with me, I can assure you—”

“Not interested.” 

Brienne returns to her sword, but her head is full, not with Renly, but with the despicable Kingslayer pinning her down—

Cursing herself in her mind, she drags the rags down harder. 

She hates him from the core of her being. She always will. She must work harder to keep such filthy images off her head.

+++++

_Of course you want to know what it feels like to be a woman._

She loosens her pants. The desperation to scratch this itch is greater than her will to purge her mind off the unwanted.

_You wished one of them could overpower you—_

“Yes,” she breathes, her hand between her legs.

_—fling you down, tear off your clothes—_

She slips in a tentative finger, another pressing where she knows it will get her off. Her nipples call out to her when she rubs harder, and with her other hand, she unties her shirt enough to get to where she needs to be touched.

_I’m strong enough…_

It’s a pity she had to bear witness to him taking a piss; his cock, ever since, has refused to vacate her memory. She pushes the finger in further; it is not his cock, but it’ll do. Pleasure this way is her only means to satisfy herself. 

“You seem to be struggling to sleep.”

She immediately withdraws her errant hands and straightens her clothes, ruing her stupid impulse, chiding herself for forgetting that they’re sharing a tent.

“I can help,” he cheekily offers. 

“Go to sleep, Kingslayer,” she mumbles. She does not dare turn to his side.

Unabashed, he resumes, “Who were you thinking of, wench?”

“None of your concern.”

She dares not think again about it.

+++++

She turns her neck to see how far she can go, but when the pain reminds her that this is her body and not something she can be careless with, she winces.

“You should ask Qyburn to have a look,” Jaime advises. How long has he been keeping an eye on her? “Mauled by a bear that size - you’re not going to heal yourself.”

“I’m fine,” she hisses, but the fingers reaching out to her neck give her away.

“You’re in pain.” He gets up to come take a closer look at her wounds. “Let me—”

She draws away before he can touch her. “I can take care of myself.”

“Very well.” He returns to his corner.

His sincere concern, and then this graceful acceptance of her rejection leaves her deep in thought. Brienne looks to her lap as if her tattered gown would give her an answer. 

More than the bear’s handiwork, something else starts to bother her.

+++++

One sleeve stuck half-way, and her arm twisted in an awfully painful tangle is not the challenge Brienne is keen on tackling.

“I can help,” Jaime says, sounding very different from the first time he’d offered her those words.

She pulls down the gown in place. “Undressing is not something I need help with.” She does need another hand, not his, though. She’s not quite prepared for his touch. “I can take care of it myself.” 

She prepares herself for an ill-meaning remark, but he gives her nothing but a slow retreat from the tent.

“I will leave you to it,” he says, as he steps out of her sight.

+++++ 

She had set out on Lady Catelyn’s instructions with a prisoner bound and gagged. She was meant to despise him. Her task was to hand him over to his family and return with her charge. Sleepless nights were not a part of the deal. Nor was this change of heart that is rapidly beginning to become more than that. 

The thought of this night being the last with him should be a welcome relief, so why is it—

“Can’t sleep, my lady?”

Unlike the first time he had asked her this, she does not cover her ears. 

“What keeps you up this late?” he presses on, just like earlier.

She can hear the rustling of sheets, the long sigh that travels down to her corner, and then the footsteps that make it to her. “You appear to be thinking about Renly.”

If only he were right…

She can feel the bedding shift beneath his feet as he sits down next to her. “Are you?”

The proximity of his voice gets her senses on an alert. It is not just curiosity but something more coating it. And no, it is not an intention to put her down.

“Brienne—”

Her heart pushing into her ribs, she sits up. “You cannot keep asking me what I’m thinking.” 

He moves within a foot of her, too close for her to breathe properly. “Is that a yes or a no to my question?”

“What is the point of an answer?” She shakes her head wishing it would shake away this - whatever _this_ is. “Tomorrow you will be back home, and there is no way—”

His hand closes over hers, flooding her with warmth.

“Ser Jaime—”

His mouth cover hers with easy affection, his fingers moving up her arm like he has always been meaning to do this. Passion follows his gentle longing, his lips playing and probing, hers moving beneath, giving, wanting. He moans into her like a man starved for touch, and she just goes along, his purpose, hers. Wedged between this beautiful moonlit night and the sun that would set them apart, this is all they have for now, this is the most she can hope for. This, she will make the most of.

When the need to breathe surpasses their need for each other, he lets go. “Not Renly then.”

Green is a sign of envy - so she has been told before, and his eyes only prove it. “You sound quite jealous.”

“Now, I’m just relieved.” he softly admits. 

In that moment, she knows what she wants. What lies before her tomorrow is not her concern tonight. She wants to go where her body takes her, to be where her mind is, to do as her heart bids her.

In these fleeting moments between the dark and the day, she doesn’t want to sleep.

His hand moves; across her shoulder to the laces holding her shirt. Her wounds have not healed, and he has just one hand, yet undressing feels a lot easier now. It is as if their clothes do not wish to remain an obstacle anymore.

He starts kissing her again; mouth to neck to shoulder. He urges her down on the bedroll, and never stopping the kissing, lowers his body on hers. She takes him in a passionate embrace, shaking fingertips stumbling down his back, eager to explore, yet, tentative. His lips are incessant; caressing a breast, he flicks his tongue over the other. His sighs lodge themselves deeply in her skin; his revulsion shrugged away, they speak a different tongue. 

There is nothing more she wants in these few hours that bind them on the same path. She is his; she wants to show him how badly she wants this; wants to find out how much he wants her. 

Their kisses race away to hungry grunts when their hips grind together. Hot and hard, he now seeks to pleasure her, to show her what it feels like to be a woman. Stripped bare of all that once irked her, he gives in instead of demanding, his desire to forge this bond as deep as hers, deeper than the throbbing erection pressing into her.

Her breath hitches when he pushes gently into her. “Tell me if I hurt you,” he whispers, and kisses her again, tasting her, tongue and lips, feeling her teeth. 

He goes in a little further, and Brienne cups his face, sweeping his beard and feeling her way down his throat to brace herself against his strong chest. There is this incredible strangeness when he gives her his first full thrust. It is not all comfort and a blanket of bliss, but the pain is not as much as she had always been cautioned about. 

He begins moving, his hips circling over hers in a slowly rising tempo— 

A sound escapes her, an embarrassing noise that leaves her throat; her breath grows ragged. The hunger in his eyes as he delves over and over into her aching depths - it is what has left her with countless sleepless nights. 

Resting her hands on his hips, she holds his gaze. Something shines brightly in his eyes, the corners of them twitching as if -

He buries his face in her chest, straining, breathing hard as he thrusts. His heated gasps of _‘Brienne,’_ set her skin on fire. She wants to scream, but her voice forgets its way out of her throat. Harsh breaths are all that leave her - that along with his wanton grunts and the slapping of desperate flesh ripping through the quiet of the night.

His thrusts quicken, and so does her body, tumbling headlong towards what is soon to hit her. She tightens; he presses deeper. He gives her the friction she needs, not perfect, but just about right to—

When pleasure wraps around her, engulfing her, she lets out a cry he greets with a kiss. He stills as she shudders around him, stroking her hair, calming her down. She very nearly breaks into a sob, but blinks back, willing herself not to. This is a moment of joy. 

He is not yet there, but not for long, and when his climax wears them down, her tears can no longer be restrained. Her feelings for him - she realizes what it is.

“You’re crying,” he immediately notices, and wipes her cheeks.

She simply shakes her head, but when Jaime looks into her eyes, she knows he can see it.

“I do, too,” he murmurs on her lips, and she knows what he means.

She lies with him knowing no matter what tomorrow brings, they will find a way.

**Author's Note:**

> Some canon-AU fluff for today. To those who're tired of me, well... :(


End file.
